


Horns

by LyneOfMidgard



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Drama, WorstGrandpaEver
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24517435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyneOfMidgard/pseuds/LyneOfMidgard
Summary: Noic, the daughter of Loki, finds herself to be stolen away from her family after Loki's defeat. Taken her mother's skirt and into a world of servitude. If anyone thought the mischief would end upon Loki's banishment and unending torment- They're about to learn a very, VERY vengeful lesson.
Comments: 1





	Horns

Noic woke in the Servant's Quarters of Asgard's Palace. Which was incredibly concerning, as the little girl could remember quite clearly that she had fallen asleep in her own bed. In Vanaheim.

"It's about time you woke up! Lazy Girl! It's long past dawn." The shadow of a stern, strict woman loomed overhead, disapproving in every aspect, and holding her hands to her wide hips to display it. Noic rubbed at her drowsy blue eyes with her offhand. Though the movement summoned a drawn wince for the soreness of her muscles as they complained of the just as sharp and stern bed that she had apparently spent the night on. "Ho! Lazy Girl! Do you hear me? You'll wake at dawn from now onwards, am I clear?" The shadow above continued, wrinkled and sagging face an unpleasant sight first thing in the morning. Or at all.

Noic growled tiredly, pointedly spreading her offhand's fingers to shield her drowsy gaze from the sight of it.

_Oh, teleporting bed, Take me away._

The woman shifted her arms from her hips to cross over themselves, irritated finger tapping on the inside of her folded elbow with impatience, "Have you never worked a day in your life, Lazy Girl?"

Noic gave an audible little snore.

Overhead, the woman sighed with exasperation, pinching the bridge of her nose with frustrated realization, "Oh, this is going to be a fight all day, every day, isn't it?"

**.**

As it turned out, the stern woman was named Ragneid-. It was a coarse name that belonged on a coarse man, in Noic's opinion. Which suited the abrasive woman just fine. Ragneid had many children within her charge, enough so that Noic wasn't the oldest, the youngest, the strongest or even the weakest. And, in overcrowded truth, over the next week Noic settled unimportantly in the background. Or rather, she had, before her form shifting pendant was taken (For a spell of bad luck that she decidedly did not do) and Noic quickly found herself to be the center of every distrustful look and displeased conversation.

Aside from the newfound attention, Noic found her more colorful form to be one with a thousand burdens.

The foremost, of course, being the crisis which accompanied the shift of one's own skin the very moment a simple bauble was removed. An uncomfortable epiphany on just why her father was always so particularly insistent that she wear it.

But there were physical trials which came with the fearsome form. For instance, working beneath the sun, in any regard, was no longer an option. After a simple two hours at low sun, Noic found herself falling face first into the fields she was to help tend.

Everything froze beneath her casual touch, including other's skin.

Upon entrance to any room, Noic's presence drastically lowered the temperature to a brisk, teeth chattering degree which brought the occupants to bitterly complain between shivers. (Though that one she quite enjoyed).

The list went on,

and on,

AND ON.

**..**

Over the next week, Noic developed a thousand little tricks for her contagious temperature. One of which being to simply succumb to a nocturnal nature. Red eyes opened at midnight, and while the air was chilled to the breath, completed her various tasks for the day. All before the sun even rose. During which time, the Frost Giant chose to laze about in the coolest shade that she could find, even still so thoroughly cooked by its looming presence that it was all the girl could do to sleep in it for the next nocturnal night.

Ragneid did hate the visible habit, but to even begin to accuse Noic of sneaking away in the early morning, would be to also accuse the posted guard of that doorway to be leaving his post. Considering the temperament of that lot.. Well.

It wasn't a difficult concession, in the scale of things.

Those under Ragneid's care, however, being the temperamental children that they were, were far less mindful of tact or sense. Instead, they took great offense at the readily visible portion of the matter, which was that she was always finished with her tasks before _them_.

"You're finished _already_ , again?" The dark elf cut sharply, crossing his pale arms sourly over his tunic in frustration to find the Frost Giant to be idle and tearing into a burnt roll. Her freezing fingertips doubly hardening this scorched treat with her cold touch, while he, himself, held a lumber axe over his exhausted shoulder, "How do you finish so fast? You must be _skipping_ tasks!" His black eyes narrowed in suspicion.

".. Hi Skorri." Noic croaked back dismissively, gnawing on the corner of the charred roll, it only growing more tough and boulder like for her lingering touch. Even still, doubly hardened as it was, the concept of skipping was far more difficult to chew. As if the _not particularly enjoying_ the task of laundry was worth a lashing.

Whatever that was.

No one in Ragneid's care really knew, actually, but the word itself sounded so violent that most often just saying it rendered immediate obedience.

"Then what's your _trick_? What's your _tactic_?" Skorri edged eagerly, rolling the axe across his shoulders in lingering soreness for the weight of the dull axe head.

Noic gave a thin lipped smile in quickly vague answer. Turning her attention immediately thereafter to place the baked boulder to the table, raised her fist, and brought it down hard. It cracked, down the middle, which Noic collected one side of and took to offering the other half of the bread roll to the boy across the hall happily.

Skorri groaned with exasperation, trudging forward sourly to the lumber shed for his work. But did happen to take the roll in his exhausted hand in passing. Hesitating here in the doorway of the meal place with consideration. "We still on for trading your laundry duty for my cooking next week?"

 _As sure as nobles sweat_ , Noic thought sharply, offering a thumbs up in approval as she gnawed again on her halved prize.

Er.. Had she just chipped that tooth?

**...**


End file.
